Beneath These Chains (Page 35)

“Good thing you didn’t bother with panties because I would’ve just shredded them.” My inner muscles quivered at his growled declaration. “Shirt off. I want you naked when you’re begging for me.”

Quivered? Try spasmed.

That much intensity, that much leashed power, staring down at me turned my limbs to goo.

“I said shirt off, Elle.”

I should be arguing, telling him not to tell me what to do, but goddamn if his orders didn’t make this so much hotter. At this point, I was ready to do anything he told me. Like drop to my knees and worship the hard-on bulging beneath his shorts. My mouth watered at the thought. I needed to get my hands—and mouth—on that monster.

I grabbed the hem of the T-shirt as I plotted how to get him just as naked as I was about to be. I tugged it over my head and tossed it to the cushion beside me.

Lord bent again, picking up the coffee table and setting it a good three feet away. The muscles in his arms, chest, and shoulders flexed and bunched. And good God … the man should not be allowed to look that sexy. It wasn’t fair. I was so, so screwed.

He hit his knees, and his hands landed on my legs.

And Houston, we have contact. Lord’s callused palms coasted up my thighs as he eased my legs open.

“Fuck, you’re already soaked.”

True story. And I was probably going to leave a wet spot on the couch. Good thing it was leather. Easy clean up and all.

He lowered his chin, and the morning scruff on his jaw scraped the inside of my knee. Goose bumps covered my skin.

“I get to eat this pussy two days in a row. You know what that makes me?”

I shook my head.

“A damn lucky man.”

And then there were no more words because Lord gripped my thighs, lowered his mouth to my pussy, and feasted.

He didn’t stop until I came twice.

And I screamed his name both times.

So fucking responsive.

Elle was a goddamn miracle, and I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I was a lucky man.

I’d planned to make her wait. Cement things with a few dates before I gave her what she’d claimed to want from the beginning, but now, seeing her so open and needy in her pleasure, my plan fell to shit.

I was done waiting.

I had to have her.

Even through the haze of lust, I knew it was the right call. Dragging it out, using sex as the carrot to get what I wanted … wasn’t that just another form of control that would make Elle more likely to bolt? The thought hadn’t occurred to me until just now.

Her eyes fluttered open, out of focus until they locked on me. My expression must have been a fuck ton more serious than I’d intended, because her brow wrinkled, and some of that easiness I loved drained away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I didn’t want her thinking anything was wrong, not when everything between us was so fucking right.

“Not a damn thing. Change of plans … we’re going to be very late to that appointment.”

Elle blinked, not getting what I was saying for a few seconds. And then … realization. “Wait, you mean…?”

“Done fucking around. I want you. You want me. No more wasting time.”

She swallowed and nodded.

I didn’t wait for any other sign that she was down with this plan. I leaned forward, slipped my arms under her legs, and lifted her up. I carried her the same way I had to the couch, except this time we were headed to my room. I lowered her onto the mattress and she scooted up to the pillows, laid out in the center of my bed. Naked.

All the things I’d done in my life had led me to this moment, and I couldn’t regret a single one because they’d gotten me to Elle.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Shit timing. I almost ignored it, but I needed to tell Mathieu to reschedule this morning’s appointment for later—much later. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled it out.

A text from Mathieu.

Dude is wondering where da fuck u at. What do I tell him?

I glanced at Elle, who was studying me expectantly.

“That better be important.”

Spitfire. God, I couldn’t wait to get inside her.

“Buying us a whole free morning.”

She raised an eyebrow, then nodded in what I assumed was approval.

I tapped out a reply.

Reschedule for lunch.

I dropped my phone on the floor, not bothering to wait for Mathieu’s response. If it pissed off the guy or he couldn’t reschedule, it didn’t matter. There was nothing more important than what I was doing right now. The world could burn for all I cared. Nothing was stopping me now that I’d made my decision.

Elle continued to watch me. Waiting.

The wait was over.

I tugged my boxers off my hips and dropped them to the floor.

“Thank the Lord,” she whispered, a smile playing on her lips even as her eyes widened.

“That is my name.”

“And so fitting … because Lord oh Lord.”

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. Only Elle.

She reached her hand up to her throat and trailed it down between her lush tits, across the curve of her belly, and then lower. She dragged her fingers back and forth above her pussy—as if my attention hadn’t already been on it.

“You don’t even have to try to tempt me. All you have to do is breathe, and I’m dying for you.”

She dipped a finger lower, sweeping across her clit, and her hips bucked.

The woman was taunting me. I came around the side of the bed and pulled open the nightstand drawer to grab a strip of condoms and tossed them on the bed.

“That looks ambitious.”